


In a Borrowed Bedroom

by daisylore



Series: In a Borrowed Bedroom [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Community: inceptiversary, Erotic Dreams, Inception kink bingo, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Wet Dream, inceptiversary, possibly accidental voyeurism?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylore/pseuds/daisylore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story in which Eames’s internal monologue is a bit overactive and very anxious, and Arthur has a wet dream. (written for the kink bingo prompt 'erotic dreams', I tried)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Borrowed Bedroom

Eames isn’t really sure how he ended up sharing a room with Arthur. It all happened pretty quickly. They were going to work a job in a tiny Alaskan town, and Arthur expressed concern that the team’s presence would arouse suspicion. One or two smartly dressed, secretive visitors, okay, but four or five in an insular group? That was conspicuous.

Eames tried to point out that, if it weren’t for Arthur setting the precedent, they would probably all just dress casually, but Arthur had just given him _the look_ and then continued with his spiel.

Arthur had a plan as soon as their connecting flights all met in Juneau. The plan was possibly unnecessary, but it was part of Arthur’s job to identify potential problems and eliminate them, so Eames went along with it. Nothing could ever be gained from Arthur not getting his way. Three of them would scatter alone to nearby towns and then commute in each day, and the other two would hold down base, eluding suspicion by posing as a vacationing couple. That way, the group would never been seen together. It was universally agreed that Arthur, as the point man, should run the operations from their base. He just needed someone else to join him as his significant other.

And Eames didn’t mean to volunteer. Honestly, he didn’t. He may like Arthur, but that’s not Eames’s kind of move. Eames has a timeline in mind (which he likes to think is very fitting for Arthur), and it's nice and slow, bringing them gently from friends to lovers. He doesn’t really fancy just propositioning Arthur, so he isn’t exactly jumping for joy at the opportunity to get Arthur alone in a hotel room. Just not his style, no matter how much he likes him.

He really didn’t mean to volunteer.  

When Arthur proposed the plan, Dom immediately looked at Ariadne. The louse was so set in his heteronormative ways that he would set up Arthur, a man in his early thirties, with still-teenaged Ari before any of the (much more age-appropriate) guys.

Eames saw the look in Ariadne’s eyes. He knew it immediately. It was a look he never would have recognized before he started forging, but he had worn a facsimile of it on a female forge the very first time he had worn her skin in a dream, when he’d realized in horror that their mark’s projections had been leering predatorily at her. It was a look of fear and panic and aversion. Ariadne was clearly questioning whether spending the night alone with Arthur would be _safe_.

It wasn’t that Eames didn’t trust Arthur. He just recognized that Ariadne didn’t know him very well, and only really in the context of work, where Arthur could be admittedly a bit terrifying. Honestly, if he were in her position, he would see Arthur – the man who always got what he wanted – and have that look in his eyes, too. He didn’t think Arthur would ever do something worthy of such concerns, but Ariadne had no way of being certain. She shouldn’t have to spend the entire job afraid.

Eames didn’t want to _say_ any of this. He didn’t want to imply that Arthur would take advantage of Ariadne. Nor did he want anyone to think he was just trying to play the “nice guy” and come unprompted to Ariadne’s rescue – he’d look like a right wanker if he suggested in any way that Ariadne was a child who needed protecting. But not doing anything was bothering him already, and, before Cobb could say anything, Eames found himself raising his hand.

And it really wasn’t about him and Arthur.

If Arthur had been angling for someone else, he certainly didn’t show it. He simply smiled at Eames and said, “Works fine for me.”

And now Eames is alone with Arthur in their shared hotel room. For a couple. One bed.

“I’ll take the couch,” Eames says immediately.

“Eames, don’t be silly. There’s room enough for both of us on the bed. I don’t mind sharing.”

“No, it’s okay,” Eames starts, but Arthur interrupts him.

“You’ll freeze without the duvet, Eames, and I may be nice enough to share the bed, but I’m not so generous that I’ll give you my sheets just because you’re being prudish.”

If Eames were a more principled man, he would be thinking that he had the right to sleep wherever he damn well pleased, and he would probably park on the couch just to make a point, but then Arthur strips down to his boxers, and fuck if he doesn’t look sexy.

“Okay,” he responds.

Eames spends a moment ogling the sharp, defined lines of Arthur’s muscles before realizing that he’s being exactly the sort of creep he was just worrying about for Ariadne.

Unfortunately, sexual attraction seems to trump the urge to right his own hypocrisy, and, when they climb into the bed together, he’s still distracted by thoughts of Arthur, gorgeous Arthur. He still can’t believe he even knows someone this beautiful, let alone gets to work with him. He’s pretty sure that Arthur will never look at him the same way (he’s only ever noticed him involved with women – okay, yeah, he’s been paying attention), but Eames will always damn well enjoy the lovely sight of Arthur in the corner of his eye.

Eames’s surprise is incomparable, then, when he awakens later in the night to hear Arthur moaning out his name.

++

Arthur is having the loveliest dream.

He’s reclining on a pile of pillows, in a big hotel room with windows for walls. Some of the windows are open, and the teal curtains flutter in the warm breeze. He can hear the ocean outside, but other than that it is quiet.

He is completely alone, except for the man between his legs.

The man is doing a wonderful job pleasuring him. His mouth is warm and wet, and Arthur feels incredible. It’s the kind of feeling that – well, it’s the kind that he dreams about, a little more of a full-body feeling than the more focused ecstasy of having his cock sucked in real life. It relaxes all his muscles. He is just lying there, loose and boneless on the bed, until the man hums a little around him. Arthur’s pleasure becomes more concentrated, narrowing down to where the man – oh, it’s Eames, gorgeous Eames – to where Eames has his lips wrapped around him.

Eames looks up at him as if his singular goal in life is to make Arthur feel good, and _oh god he does._ Arthur is thrusting his hips shallowly upwards into his mouth and he just takes it, hollowing out his cheeks a bit to suck on him as Arthur fucks his face. The sensation just keeps building and building, far past where he thinks he’d usually come. As the pleasure continues to flood over him, he can’t help but praise Eames, because this is the most incredible thing that Arthur has ever felt.

++

Eames lies awake, dumbfounded, until Arthur mumbles again in his speech. It’s unmistakable. He says Eames’s name.

There’s a lot for Eames to process about this, surprise and second-hand embarrassment and pure elation. Arthur is thinking about _him._ Arthur could be interested in _him._ But Eames cannot process any of those things right now, because Arthur isn’t just saying Eames’s name, he’s moaning it. His voice is needy and breathy and an entirely different pitch from his usual authoritative register. His face is all screwed up in pleasure and his lips are parted slightly. He looks magnificent.

He is also rutting against the mattress.

Arthur is having a sex dream.

Arthur is having a sex dream about him, moaning his name and thrusting his hips against the bed. Eames wants to know exactly what he’s doing to Arthur in that dream. But he could never join him there, because this is a natural dream. Eames really shouldn’t be here. Fuck.

Arthur is vulnerable and Eames is watching him. He just can’t take his eyes away. Eames is already hard and Arthur is practically writhing in his sleep six inches away from him on the mattress.

Eames should leave. Eames should go, right now, and never say anything about it or think about it again. Arthur didn’t choose to have this dream, let alone to have it in front of Eames, who is apparently a man of such twisted morals that not only is he watching Arthur like this, but he is getting off on it, too.

Eames gets up carefully and tiptoes to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He has a drink of water. If he can calm down, he should be able to go back to sleep. And, if he can’t, he will wait in this bathroom, wide-awake, until morning.

He’s doing a pretty good job distracting himself, too. He’s listing off prime ministers in reverse chronological order, and it’s going okay. Maybe his old school teachers wouldn’t have accepted the answer “that bloke with the glasses who came after Thatcher,” but, well, they weren’t here right now.

He’s almost calm, until he somehow hears Arthur’s groans _through the door_ , and then Eames just can’t do it anymore. He has his hand on his cock in seconds, and it doesn’t take long with the sound of Arthur moaning in his ears before he comes. He cleans up quickly and then waits until the noises stop before going back out into the room.

Eames climbs back into bed, the chatter in his head dulled by the aftereffects of his orgasm. He would wait to think about all of this tomorrow, he decides.

He closes his eyes and relaxes. Then, just as he can feel himself falling asleep, Arthur squirms and throws his arm over Eames in his slumber.

Perhaps the Arthur-timeline will need to be readjusted.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any comments, especially constructive criticism if you have it, would be much appreciated :-)


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